FOR GOOD TRIP, SEE THINGS THROUGH KID'S EYES.

Byline: Kristin Jackson Seattle Times

``Expect the unexpected'' should be the motto of anyone traveling with children.

On a recent trip to the U.S. Southwest, my family and I rafted down a river, roamed remote canyons by jeep and hiked to the ruins of an ancient Indian village.

When we got home, our 5-year-old was asked what she liked most about the trip.

``The ants,'' she replied instantly.

Ants?

That was the last answer I expected. I thought she'd talk about the rapids we rafted through, or the Navajo children she played with, or maybe the traditional favorite of traveling kids - the motel swimming pool.

Nope.

For her, the ants were the trip's high point.

We came across the ants in a dusty little canyon town in Utah. The dirt shoulders of the road by our motel swarmed with thousands of ants, marching around a half-dozen ant holes.

We paused to look at them as we walked to a cafe. I hustled her along to dinner. On the way home, she begged to watch them some more.

Why not? There was no reason to hurry back to the motel. It was a balmy 80-degree evening. I had my book with me. So I stood and read while she crouched by the ants and stared into their busy little world.

She fed them crackers from her pocket, built little dirt dikes, made up stories about them.

I decided to give her all the time she wanted; I was curious about how long she'd take.

She took an hour to walk the block to our motel, stopping at each ant hole. She went to bed babbling about the ants.

I forgot about them. She obviously didn't.

Ever since her unexpected answer, I've been thinking about why she liked the ants so much. And it's made me see how differently a parent and child can look at the same things on the same trip.

I see ants and I want to reach for a can of Raid. I've had too many ants invading my house and crawling into my food on camping trips to be interested in them.

She sees ants and she sees a fascinating, miniature world: little creatures that are even busier than she is, that don't skitter away from her like most wild things.

Her answer made me realize, too, how rarely kids are given control during a vacation: real, positive control - not the control that comes because the kids whine so much that parents give in.

On our 10-day trip in the Southwest, watching the ants was about the only time she was truly in charge, deciding what to do and for how long.

Her dad and I had planned our days tightly to make the most of our vacation. We did, of course, make time for some true kid stuff - swimming and card games. But we always controlled the agenda, deciding when activities would begin and end.

When she got the chance, she seized the time - and spent an hour with ants.

Weeks later, she still remembers the ants. I wonder if she'll remember the stuff I'd like her to remember - the 1,000-year-old Indian cliff dwelling, the raft trip, the Navajo kids chattering in their own language.

Maybe those images are stored in the back of her mind. Maybe the trip helped imprint her with a love of the outdoors, a curiosity about other cultures. I hope so.

But I learned something, too:

To plan a vacation with more empty time. To let a child take the lead more, even if it means watching ants. It's the kid's trip, too.